A Notch On My Bedpost
by NanaMun
Summary: The good just don't taste as sweet as the wicked.
1. Riley

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**Author's Notes: **Hello readers, my muse strikes again. I've been on this kick of writing one-shots with cold protagonists (or antagonists, if you want to be technical). To explain the category of this story, it's a "tragedy" only because Edward is a "tragic" anti-hero. We're dealing with a twisted, yet interesting character, who's as unapologetic as he is dangerous. So..

**A Huge DISCLAIMER: **This particular chapter deals with sex and religion and two boys. If you're a practicing Catholic, you're not going to like the actions that take place now and farther into the story. This particular chapter deals with relations between Edward and an **altar boy**. Yeah, you read that right. No, Edward isn't a priest and in this chapter his age is relatively close to the altar boy's. I don't know if you should feel better or worse about this, but keep in mind,** both are in their teens.**

**Okay, with that said, read with caution, or perversion. Whichever suits you best.**

**Pardon my lack of knowledge of Catholic practices. I did light research.**

**Characters aren't my own**

**xXx**

**A Notch on My Bedpost**

**xXx**

**Riley**

_~I wanted to be his temptation. I wanted to be his apple. I wanted to be his knowledge. I wanted to be his sin.~_

He was a good Catholic boy. We met sometime after my sixteenth birthday. By then I was well rounded, all innocence lost. I was looking to damn someone and he was just too perfect.

Ashy brown hair, light hazel eyes and a square jaw of a model. He wore flattering slacks and the fitted sweaters, but it was always better to see him in action at church.

He was an altar boy. I think that may have been the most appealing thing about him. I was curious. Had a hand - weathered and withered in age - touched his firm and yet virgin body? Did he have any stories to tell? It would have made the town more interesting.

I caught him on his way from church some time on Sunday, walking my way. I had been watching him, enthralled by him. I wanted to make him pop, scream, shudder and just about anything else he could be capable of doing in mid-coitus. I wanted his virgin load in me and I wanted to remember our shared time together as it evacuated the warmth of my insides.

I _accidentally_ knocked my shoulder into his, causing him to drop whatever he was holding in his hands; a bible and a textbook of sorts. Luck was in my favor - as usual - when I noticed the damage I did to the leather-bound book. There it lay in a dirty puddle on the sidewalk. Biting back the triumphant grin, I bent over to retrieve the book. I looked up at him, pulling my bottom lips out in a pout, aware of the magic I could work on an unsuspecting man. I stared up at him through my length lashes and fixed my expression to one of sorrow.

"I'm so sorry. Look at what I done." I exaggerated exasperation, "Is there anything I can do?"

With a forgiving smile, he shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I was probably in your way." His hazel eyes penetrated mine with such tender compassion, my cock hardened in my jeans. I wondered how he'd look with that glint of sin. I hoped it brought out the green in his irises.

"No, I can vouch for being a ditz," My tongue touched the swell of my bottom lip, drawing it inward for my teeth to latch on. I watched his reaction carefully, rating his self-control. His innocent eyes widened slightly before they darted up to meet mine. I didn't want to push him yet, so I feigned innocence, furrowing my eyebrows as if I was deep in thought, "I've done my fair share of destroying things. Maybe I can buy you a new one?" Adding a bit of fuel to the fire, I teased him just a bit, combing a hand through my unruly hair. My teeth were relentless against my bottom lip. He shifted in front of me, before offering his hand to take the Bible.

"No, I'm sure I can get one from home…" His voice trailed off just as I handed him the book, the tips of our fingers brushing against each other. I could feel the shudder from him, even then. My eye was better at sizing him up than my cock. I knew what he liked, why he stayed in that mildew smelling church until the wee hours of the morning. I was blessed with being observant and I used that skill quite well.

"Let me make it up to you?" He was easily breakable. At 16, I've had tougher chases. The challenge wasn't getting him in my reigns, it was watching him unravel, realize that all he ever knew was a lie. I fucked boys, it was a fact, however there was always an underlying motive; I heard they were hung, they were married, or they gave fantastic head. This boy, this wonder in black slacks and a sweater yearned to have me open his eyes. He combed his hand over the Holy book affectionately, nodding slowly.

"I'll come by this Wednesday and give you a brand new one." A Bible wasn't hard to come by when you were an altar boy, we both knew this. Yet, the sparkle in his eyes was purely genuine and kind, not yet clouded with lust or desire. He wanted me and he had no idea.

**xXx**

I didn't have to buy one. All it took was a short trip to my parent's room, bypassing the invisible barrier that kept me out of the lack of private life they had. Their bed was deader than my own, but that was barely saying much since my mother took to occupying others as I took to occupying closets, counters, teacher's desks, cars...

We had that in common, I suppose.

I combed through their closet, knocking medical bags with my leg and kicking aside expensive purses. I found it right under the hidden bottle of wine, chuckling to myself. It looked as new as the day she bought it to impress Father Aro, the new man of the church three years ago. It was a moot attempt on her part. The Priest was queerer than a flying horse.

Within a month of her chase, she became bored, tossing the Bible, like another forgotten designer bag.

I held it in my hand, finding a use for it finally, although just as shallow and deceiving as hers.

That Wednesday, I stepped into the church, not completely surprised to find it littered with older women and families of our neighborhood. I attended church on occasion when the streets thinned of potentials. A Holy place such as this had a knack for drawing in the biggest sinners, myself included.

Just dirty water on dirty bodies. There was too much bad to clean off. No one had a chance at purity, and yet here they were week after week.

The purest of them, stood at the altar, glancing over his shoulder to watch me. A hesitant smile spread on his face, adding a boyish look to his sharp, maturing features. He waved and I did as well, gesturing to the book I clutched to my chest. I sat back and watched the service with mild interest, keeping my eyes on him. There wasn't much he was doing now, other than tossing shy glances my way. I smirked knowingly, but kept from the obvious signs, licking my lips or puckering them in his direction. It would remain innocent for now.

Innocent.

I chuckled, recalling the irony of chasing an altar boy, the epitome of innocence, or perhaps in today's society, an epitome of innocence lost. Those wondrous, fucktastic eyes of his were piercing and void of any jading. He didn't suspect that my advances were ill intentioned, nor did he turn down my offer to make it up to him. He was too trusting for his own damn good. A part of me wanted to feel sorry, but all I felt was turned on. His pink lips pressed together as he remained in thought, listening to the priest's words. I imagined those lips wrapped around my throbbing dick and I had to bite back a moan. Feeling my cock grow in suit pants, I shifted, conveniently placing the book over my lap.

Another sufficient use for it.

When the service was finally over, people began milling around, smiles galore, life's disappointments nowhere to be seen in their eyes. It was a remarkably wondrous and sad thing, watching them hug and clutch each other close, whispering words of encouragement and praise. Smiling, happy people fooled.

Priest Aro in all his pleasant glory spoke silently to an elderly couple. I couldn't help my thoughts as they took that familiar turn to my sexual curiosity. The look in that man's eyes were hunger, but not for knowledge or for passion, only for what I was there for as well.

I knew this because I merely observed.

Remembering my main purpose there, I scanned the crowd of church-goers, looking for that symbolic gown and brown head of hair elevated over most of the populous. He was tall, had a lean build like a swimmer, nowhere to be seen under the get-up. I figured he was a bit too old to be of service at the altar, but it was hard tracking _what_ exactly certain denominations of Catholicism stuck to these days.

He was in the far end of the massive hall, towards the left of the front row of pews speaking to a middle aged couple, a woman with the same shade of brown hair as him, and the other, tall and lean, with a square jaw. Well, I certainly knew where he got his fuck good looks from. Catching my eye in the midst of a conversation, he pouted apologetically.

My cock twitched at the way his succulent lips poked out.

I cocked my head, watching him longer than I needed to before mouthing, "I'll come back later." throwing a wink his way. Even from where I stood, I could see the pink coloring on his cheeks, before he nodded. With the book still in my grip, I pointed to my lifted wrist, asking what time I should be back. He covertly lifted his hand mid-way, as to not grab the attention of his parents who were now speaking to the Priest. He opened his palm out once, fisted it, and then opened it again.

10 o' clock?

A bit late for a confession, isn't it?

I nodded, already working my legs back towards the double doors leading out to the entrance.

We'd have the place mostly to ourselves. I grinned, knowingly as I climbed the steps down towards the street. He was making this too easy.

**xXx**

The door was open. I stepped inside, taking in the way it felt just standing there in a big, empty space.

Each step I took almost thundered back at me. Whoever was inside, knew they had a visitor. Letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, I swept them over the pews. He sat just in the middle on the far right, facing forward. Hearing my steps, he turned his head slowly, giving me his profile.

"There you are." He didn't have to speak loud, the walls carried his voice to me easily, "I'm sorry about earlier today. My parents are here almost as much as I am. "

"It's a family affair." I commented.

"I suppose so. They're really involved with the church," He mumbled shyly, "Thanks for coming."

"No problem." And it wasn't one at all. Taking his kind smile as an invitation, I sat next to him in the pew, "Why are you here at this time?"

He faced forward again, hands clasped in his lap like a good boy, "It's comforting." He spoke gently, "I know it's weird for me to say such a thing, but I do enjoy spending my time here."

I shrugged, "To each his own, right?" Lord knows what gave me comfort. My mind briefly flashed to being taken from behind in a fun house at the State Fair some weeks before. I offered him the leather book and he took it gingerly.

"Thanks." He looked it over, "Did you buy it?" He lifted his gaze, hazel eyes meeting my own. He really was a beautiful boy.

"No." I answered honestly, "I figured with you it would be put to better use."

His pink lips turned down. In the dim lighting of the church, they seemed to shimmer, "Was it of no use for you?"

The shift in topic was subtle, but I was a professional. I knew how to handle accordingly and allow it to work in my favor.

"The best purity is that which goes untouched," I watched as he digested my words, "When you add white to black, all you get is gray. You can't go to white again."

His eyes focused to one of a pure soul on a mission, "You really believe that to be true?" I nodded, "It's not..." He paused, realizing he didn't know my name.

"Edward."

"Edward." He repeated, before smiling when the name fell from his tongue so nicely, "Maybe you just need someone to talk to."

"I'm talking to someone now, aren't I?"

The comment was rewarded with a pleasant laughter that rung out in the silent, massive space, "You are, but that's not what I meant."

"It's sweet." I cocked my head for affect, looking over him suggestively, "You want to save me, don't you?"

Even in the candle light, I could see his cheeks rose up, "You're the only one that can save yourself."

"Then that must also mean that by 'saving myself' I shall know when it has occurred, that when that redemption and salvation comes is up to me."

His brows furrowed at my words, "Yes, I suppose so." He said, unsure if he was being lead into a loophole.

He was.

"Then this redemption and salvation I'm looking for is self-made, based on my own morals and beliefs, therefore making the idealized _reward_ mine alone."

He was catching on, "No, that's not-"

"Do you retract your statement?"

"No." He shook his head, "But you're twisting my words."

"How am I?" I prodded, "For me to save myself, wouldn't I have to acknowledge when I'm saved. If saving myself is up to me, shouldn't _knowing _when it happens be up to me as well?"

"It is, but-"

"But only under the eye of Christian Faith?"

He let out a sigh, "Under what is right by the Lord."

"So my salvation doesn't lie with me, but with a greater being?"

"It lies in your faith in Him."

"So I have faith and I'm set free?"

"It's not that easy." He shook his head and for the first time, this altar boy, this mark of innocence reminded me of myself. His eyes stared ahead and he was quiet as if thinking over something that required all his attention.

I knew his sin as well as my own.

If anything, the sight turned me on more, "I know my salvation." I spoke quietly.

"And what do you believe it to be?" his tone was a ghost of my own, but I could hear the curiosity.

"On my knees," I started, sitting straighter and leaning forward, catching the surprise in his beautiful eyes, "between your legs." He gasped just before our lips met. As easy as the chase was, I knew the score would be a much more difficult task. My hands remained on the back of the seat, my chin tilted up so there was pressure between our mouths. He hadn't moved. In fact, I was taken aback to realize he was as frozen as the Virgin Mary statue.

Finally he pulled away, his mouth agape and his chest heaving with pants, "Don't say that!" He stammered, "Don't d-do that!" I found it thrilling to watch him flustered, a hand to his lips.

"You said I can save myself." I knew I sounded like a pretentious asshole, because that is just what I am. I noticed that he hasn't moved, but it is not a surprise. I saw who he was the moment I labeled him my next conquest. I understood that he would want me as well.

He was too pure, too naive and too comfortable in that bubble of his. I knew the feeling, such complacency and boredom when you were hiding the serpent in the closet.

I wanted to be his temptation. I wanted to be his apple. I wanted to be his knowledge. I wanted to be his _sin._

He watched me with learning eyes, still unsure, but I knew the need was there. I felt it.

"Let me." I offered.

He shuddered before me and the beast in me smiled in triumph at the power I had over him. He was taking in my appearance. How attractive I am, how I hold myself, all in a matter of art and deception to get what I want. The classic wolf in sheep's clothing. He fell for it and he knew this and yet, I could tell that the weighing options of morals were giving out to what I had to offer.

Something more.

He didn't need to say it. I leaned in again, taking his flesh with new vigor, testing out the shape of his orifice. With a breathy moan and a whispered, "Forgive me." he pressed his lips against mine in a carnal hunger that could only be measured to a denied, starving man.

I broke him in so easily.

His arms found home around my neck and I took the opportunity to bring him to me closer with a hand around his waist. The muffled groans and moans echoed throughout the building and it was like sex on audio. I kissed along his shaped jaw, down to the flawless skin of his neck, inhaling a citrus scent. His clothes, I noticed just then, were his usual slacks and fitted, knit sweater. No altar boy costume to my disappointment.

I continued my descent, to hell or to heaven, depending on who exactly would relay this tale again. I felt Riley's body lock and unlock with each step I took. I lifted his shirt, tickling his navel with my tongue, nipping his hardened buds with my teeth. I watched as he alternated between glancing at me, a pained want so evidently there, to throwing his head back, muttering whispered words of forgiveness and regret.

And I wasn't stopping.

My salvation was inches away. I lowered myself. It was a tight squeeze, but I was able to secure myself between his legs as promised, palming his engorged prick, getting a melodic squeal from him before I dragged the zipper of his slacks down.

"Father," He whimpered, when my nose nuzzled him through his boxers, "Edward!" He cried out, when my tongue tasted his pre-cum after properly exposing him.

It was one hell of an internal battle he was undergoing. He kept his hands fisted at his side when I took him deep, testing his control. He had a lot of it. My tongue flickered across his head occasionally as I stroked him. I worked my lips around his tip, using my usual technique to build up his orgasm, tonguing his slit to rev and start his cries.

His body shook with fight. My cheeks hollowed around his gloriously thick dick and I bobbed in earnest.

His palms instantly hid his eyes as he threw his head back for the countless time in attempt to hold back the truth of how much he wanted this.

This was something I had never experienced before. The beauty of him so helpless, fighting for purity. It was leaving me pulsing and aching against my restraints. I needed a release, even if he wasn't going to give it to me. Keeping my rhythm on his dick, I used my right hand to seize the release I needed. When I was able to free myself from my confines, I stroked in rhythm to my bobs, this time content with the rewarding comfort of my hand.

Riley chose that moment to lose control of his body. His hips thrusted into my mouth, gaining farther entrance than the bob provided. I slowed, allowing him to work at his own pace. That alone seemed to drive him wild.

"Ungh!" He cried into his fist, muffling any attempts at a successful moan.

It was time for me to take it up a notch, "Mmm," I moaned around his sensitive prick, getting a rather violent buck in reply before a guttural cry echoed back to me after hitting the ends of the church's walls.

My throat and tongue was painted with his desire and I swallowed, eager to have that purity in me. How I wished he would have filled my ass with it. His body fell against the bench, relaxed and shivering. Still stroking my leaking cock, I stared up at him. The outline of his jaw was so tempting, angled up, giving me an erotic view of his Adam's apple.

Standing on my feet, I continued to enjoy the view. My hand never left my wood. He was gaining some focus again, sitting up straighter on the bench, his gaze locking with mine before meeting my cock.

"You can save yourself." I whispered harshly, directing my dick at him. He licked his lips, unsure of what to do. A hesitant, shaky hand landed on my slack cladded thigh, his thumb tickling my balls. He leaned forward and I felt the ghost of his breath on my swollen head. The feel of his virgin lips an inch away was exhilarating, but the caress of his full lips was even better.

He didn't know how to suck dick, so he pressed his lips against my mushroom head with an open-mouth kiss. His tongue was a curious, wet stimulation, running along the underside of my dick. He pulled away only to lick his lips, taking in the taste before leaning in again.

I stroked my shaft as he worked the head, whining just as my cock released a sample of my juices. The vibration along my sensitive organ had been growling in an attempt to hold back the inevitable.

But he was going to break me either way. His wide, hazel eyes stared up at me. The view of full lips wrapped around my cock, innocent eyes staring up with newfound _sin_ and I blew a load down in his mouth.

Pulling back in shock, a ribbon of my spunk coated his lips and chin, giving me something to remember.

He tentatively licked his lips, swollen flesh smeared with my juices. I watched in awe, trailing the stream I left on his chin with my thumb, before urging it into his warm, wet mouth. I leaned in, not minding the taste of me on his tongue.

The kiss was gentle and tender, despite the lewd act we pulled in such a sacred place. The Bible I gave him lay somewhere at his side, momentarily forgotten. It was easy to cast it aside, I noticed, when the right opportunity stepped forward. Part of me wondered how he would feel about this after, and part of me just didn't care. I came here to find my release, to see the primal desire in his eyes, watch the beauty of an orgasm written on his pure, unsuspecting face. I marked him as one in a number of many. But I was very much aware that the case was different for him. He had now taken the bite and there was no turning back.

**xXx**

It was too early to be up, but the timing was perfect.

I stepped in, almost sure I'd smell sex.

There were people, but not many, mostly those of the Holy service, but none were him. I took my time, pacing the area, hands in pocket, eyes fixated on the altar. A smirk worked its way on my lips, but this was no time to relive the past. My destination was to my right. An older woman stepped out of the ever infamous confession booth, clutching a necklace in between her fingers.

I entertained the thought for a second. Would I feel better about this? Would I feel remorse for leaving that pretty boy seated in the pew, a look on hurt and regret in his eyes? Would my actions finally catch up with me?

The thought amused me.

I supposed I was as heartless as ever.

My eyes tickled and itched with a desire I was no longer familiar with. A warming pain echoed in my chest, but I ignored it, stepping towards the booth.

It was a tight space, not much choice of what to do inside. I took a seat, feeling the softness of the fabric under me before facing the wall between me and whoever was on the other side.

I leaned back in the narrowed space and stared ahead, sure that I was going to give the Father an interesting session. There was movement on the other side and a cast of shadows played, alerting me that in fact there was someone there.

"What can I help you with, my child?" He questioned in that familiar voice. I couldn't help the smile that crossed my face.

Father Aro.

Oh, he'll love this.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."


	2. Dr Cullen

**.**

**.**

**Author's Notes: **Back again. Thanks to those that weren't disgusted or put off by what I had to offer last chapter.  
And an early thanks to those that are going to read this and review. This chapter is shorter but perhaps more important than the last. It offers some history to Edward.

**Disclaimer: **This chapter deals with the **mention of rape**. Nothing in any gory details, but it is a topic that needs to be discussed for the sake of this entire story. I'm not getting heavy with information...yet. There is also brief **adult and minor sex.**...also relevant to the story

I forgot to mention in my last chapter, but this story was semi-inspired by **Glassjaw's Must've Run All Day** which is a confusing song for me to listen to. I don't know whether to be turned on or reserved about the topic of sex. It's good to listen to before reading any chapters. It totally plays against what Edward does, but somehow it's perfection. **Sex is a dangerous, yet wonderful thing. Handle with care.**

**Characters are not my own.  
But I argue that my perversion is.**

**xXx**

**Dr. Cullen**

_~Being younger doesn't mean 'less inclined to be jaded, haunted or guilty'. He was merely a puppet, a toy for me to play with._

**/\**

He was my personal doctor. His crystal blue eyes shimmered even under the fluorescent lighting as he cleaned the wound on my temple.

"This won't need any stitching. It's a superficial cut." He sat back, observing my jaw this time, wincing, "Edward, you need to be more careful. This is the second time I've seen you this week."

"What can I say, Doctor. The boys love me."

I was rewarded with a defeated sigh, "Do I need to call your mother again?"

Taking that as my cue to leave, I hoped off the metal bed, "No broken bones, and no stitches."

"Edward," He called, "At least tell the officer outside who the boys are." I knew it was no use doing such a thing. I wasn't well liked at the school, not when a particular senior knew I had fucked his sophomore brother, breaking his heart in the process. Apparently I had 'gotten fag in him', well, more the other way around. For a sophomore, he had a pretty thick cock.

"Can I go?"

"I wish you wouldn't."

Oh Dr. Cullen. I bit my lip, feeling my stomach tickle in delight. How long has it been, a year since I had his knees buckling and eyes rolling back? Such a delightful older man pounding into the fresh meat of a high school student. And the good old doctor refused to look me straight in the eye weeks after.

I walked back over to him, not warning him when I grabbed his heavy cock through his slacks. He looked so sexy, catching his breath and clenching that strong jaw. Crystal blue eyes stared back at me, before his hand covered mine, "Do you need me for anything, Doctor?" I asked, sure he missed my tight ass compared to the loose pussy he had to fuck on occasion.

It was a shame for him. Carlisle Cullen had had his eye on me since the day we first met. I had just turned 16, but was a bit hardened to my wiles than most teens were. By that age, I had already been fucked and sucked in numerous and varied ways, that my eyes saw no lines when it came to my appetite. When our gazes met for the first time during the ceremony of introduction, I recognized the smoldered lust in those sky colored orbs and I salivated at the ball of tension in his jaw as he fought to keep his eyes and hands to himself. I had him before we could even get to know each other better.

My mother and him became quicker acquainted than I was ready for. The marriage with my father ended so quickly and he was out on the pavement really before I could say goodbye.

Not that I planned on it.

The Doctor blessed us with his occasional visits, keeping his manners formal and his presence short. He was rarely over longer than a meal. To say my mother was smitten would have been an understatement. The Doctor was smart, regal and polite - the exact opposite of my father. Not to mention, this man was loaded. Perhaps the only thing he and daddy Masen had in common.

It really wasn't until the day my mother's appointment with work ran an hour later than planned, did him and I finally become better _acquainted. _I answered the door in nothing but a towel from my shower and he stood in his usual Doctor attire without the sexy white coat.

"I apologize for disturbing you. Your mother said she would be here by now. I should come back later." He seemed all too eager to run off, rid of the view of me damp and wet and just one hand swipe away from revealing all my throbbing youth to him.

"It's fine, Doctor." I opened the door wider, urging him inside in so many ways.

It only took 10 minutes for me to be straddling his lap, his uncut dick snug in my ass as I for the first time rode a man with an M.D.

"Not here, Edward." He warned, removing my hand from his twitching bone. Oh, the years had been graceful for the both of us. At least he was comfortable with the fact that he wasn't fucking a _minor_ anymore, though there was so much more to feel sick about.

I reveled in the sick, if it wasn't apparent already.

"Call Jacob and have him take you home." He stepped back, hands in his coat's pockets, "At least for the next 24 hours, you should avoid landing in here again." I was almost sure he assumed the young, tight and very willing Quileute boy to be my lover. Such a moral man trying to snap sense into my young mind.

But I had the talent of always being a step ahead of the men I fucked.

"Why can't you take me home?" I requested. A look of indignation settled on his matured face. For a 45 year old man, he was damn sexy.

"I'm still on my shift, Edward."

I cocked my head, pulling my bottom lip out in a subtle pout, "Please, daddy." I begged, tugging on the collar of his coat. My lips widened in a satisfied smirk when I observed just how close he was to losing control.

"What did I tell you about calling me that?" There was such authority to that tone. I felt my cock jump at the ideas of just what he could do with that attitude.

"It turns me on, Doctor Cullen," I leaned in, just barely grazing his lips with my own, "And not to worry, you fuck better than daddy ever did." I wasn't at all surprised when he pulled away, a look of guilt and disgust across his face.

It had been years since I cared about my past, but it so obviously bothers him.

"Edward," He tried again, "Please, find someone to escort you home or I'll have to let your mother know..."

"Know just how nicely you filled my tight ass when I was a sophomore in high school?" I suggested. It was almost unimaginable to know I had my limits. But I did. And that one limit was for my mother being aware. She needed to remain oblivious. She served more of a purpose that way. And as much as I enjoyed my rendezvous with a man such as him, I had no qualms feeding him to the wolves if he crossed that line.

He clearly had a win-win circumstance and he was letting morals get in the way.

"How will you explain the cut and bruises?" His question is laced with anger, but I know it isn't with me, rather the situation. There was nothing he could do, no matter how much he wanted to play the good Doctor. In the end, he was someone that fucked me silly in my mother's living room and dining room, and kitchen...

"I'm a boy." He relaxed, feeling the tips of my fingers on the hem of his sleeve, "A cut and a few bruises won't be difficult to explain."

There was an internal battle going on behind those eyes and like most others that dealt with me, they lost against the very guidelines that had gotten him this far and accomplished in life. I knew this was my chance to feel his control crack under my will again. I fingered the opening in his coat, staring up at him through my lashes and feeling that pleasurable rush when he panted, clenching his eyes shut.

"I wouldn't mind a few more bruises." I spoke softly, allowing my breath to come out in small puffs of warm air against his strained jaw.

"Edward," He warned. A closed fist rested next to my head against the wall. I knew the more turned on he was, the more aggressive he became. When the beast was finally released from him, it was hard to cage until he was sated and satisfied. It was what kept me coming back to him. The only man I fucked more than once. Other than...

Carlisle didn't know it, but he was as twisted and troubled as I was. How he went through each day denying what he wanted went beyond me, but he handled it with such stoic ease I had no other choice but to offer my respects no matter how tormenting it must have been for him.

_Torment._

I smiled. It was the butter to his biscuit I suppose.

As it was to mine.

That sweet longing for something you'll never have, that numbing throb increasing and imploding your inner desire, until you fed it with something viral and crippling.

My life story.

The stubble from his jaw against my cheek is what keeps me planted in the moment, "Fuck me, Doctor." I moaned, knowing I had him just where I wanted him.

The door to the small room was shut closed, but he took the precautions of checking and locking before hungry eyes turned to me.

I never fucked him in the hospital before.

His eyes were a dark, stormy ocean as he looked over my body now leaned against the bleached white walls. He walked over in all ease, pinning me, keeping me from moving away. I gasped, feeling parted lips against my neck. It was such a thrill seeing that beast kick the cage door open, leaving the professional, morally based man nowhere to be found.

He pressed his chest against my mine, his hip thrusting. And I feel that uncut monster against my thigh. My eyes closed and I relished in just what his lips and hips could do when we are both fully clothed. Carlisle is no novice when it comes to getting me tittering to blowing one, or for keeping me lasting long, so I trusted him enough to lead this round.

That's a privilege.

My legs buckled just when his tongue flickered along the sensitive flesh below my ear. He took this opportunity to roughly grab my thighs, pressing my heated body farther into the wall before securing my legs around him.

The maneuver worked well for what he had planned. My eyes rolled to the back of head, my bruises on my stomach aching and burning as he repeatedly thrusted me against the hard surface. I knew this is pretty much all I was getting, but it didn't take away milking it for all it was worth.

"Give me that cock, Doctor!" I moaned, moving my hands to his round, tight globes, giving them a rough squeeze, "I love it when I coat that dick with my spit and you bend me over and fuck my tight ass right after." I smiled in victory hearing his rough growl and squealed out in delight when his teeth latched onto my earlobe.

"Do you like how my ass takes you in? How you have to fight to be fully seated in me? I'm so tight and you stretch me out so good. I can feel every inch and vein of you, baby." His hips picked up and one hand moved from the wall to under my ass to keep me in place and leveled with his throbbing prick. He's dry humping me into a wall, chafing my rock hard wood against the material of my jeans and he knows that the control is still all mine. I control when he gets off, if he gets off and how he gets off. He loves this _torment_ and I love the power.

His thrusts were becoming erratic and violent. This is perhaps my favorite part of getting off with Carlisle. That true, heart rendering man gone as his orgasm shadowed. A piece of me was enjoying my own torment. He looks nothing like the figure that used to sneak into my bedroom when I was 10, he's the exact opposite of the man that used to clamp his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet as my mother slept in the next room. I knew Carlisle to be completely different, but their closeted urge remains the same, if only for a second. I had become the vessel to their repressed desire.

I suppose the differences in this are that with Carlisle, I wanted it, and I had control of everything he did. He was hesitant, he was cornered, not me. And I liked it.

My legs dropped at his sides as he released my thighs, "Knees." He gasped out and I knew what he wanted.

My clever, smart doctor wanted me to clean up any mess he makes. I obeyed, sliding down to my knees, and gracefully undoing his slacks, before I had his leaking dick in my grasp. I lifted my eyes, taking in his hooded ones, staring at me with such palpable need, my gut does backflips. Perhaps there is more to why I allowed contact with this man time and time again. The blond hair and heavy lidded blue eyes is a picture from a fuzzy dream and somehow I found it to be comforting, a feeling that has been so foreign to me for years.

I teased only for a moment, drawing the line around the swollen head of his sensitive organ after I pulled back the excess flesh. His hand raked through my locks, gripping them from the roots before tugging me off of his wood, giving me a stern look.

"Suck." He ordered. And I do just that.

I take him in all the way, working my jaw and lips, before closing in the walls of my warm mouth around him. I am rewarded with a guttural growl before I pull away, with his engorged head only between my lips. I watch him as I do this and it's a fucking wonderful sight.

A crumbling man with so much to lose.

It doesn't take long before his cum is spraying the walls of my throat and I'm greedily sucking all of him down. My cock, abandoned in my jeans, throbs with neglect as I continued to suck him dry. He became a panting, writhing mess from above me. And I was quite proud.

When he had gained much of himself back, he leaned away from me, placing his softening cock back into his pants but not before casting me a lingering guilty look. It is then I knew the moment was over.

"Edward, I'm sorry," he apologized, making sure he looked appropriate to step out into the real world. I watched him with amusement, "I shouldn't have taken advantage like that."

"You didn't." I replied, "I did." He forgot often. Being younger doesn't mean 'less inclined to be jaded, haunted or guilty'. He was merely a puppet, a toy for me to play with. I stood on my feet, fingering the last of his release on my lips before tasting it on my tongue. His eyes watched before he ripped them away, a complimenting flush on his cheeks. Oh, he was something special. I chuckled, knowing that no matter what, he'd always reserve that beast for me.

"Please take care of yourself." He requested. It was as if our 5 minutes never happened, "I won't tell your mother, but I will be keeping an eye out for you when you leave and come home."

I wondered if there was a possibility he cared about me. The idea was laughable, "Will you?" I teased, "Looking for a moment to sneak into my room at night, daddy?" The irony wasn't lost between either of us. He knew perfectly well what my childhood was like.

It confused me seeing the pain in his eyes, "I wouldn't do that." He shook his head, internally chastising himself for something I didn't understand, "Be safe. Please have Jacob pick you up."

I guess that was the end of that. I humored him for the moment, "Whatever you say." I adjusted my cock in my jeans and walked my way over to the door, unlocking it before looking over my shoulder.

"I'll be home in a few hours." He spoke quietly.

I winked, before stepping out into a world that he wasn't ready to face, "See you at home, dad."


	3. Peter

**.**

**.**

******Characters Not Owned By Me**

******xXx**

**Peter**

~ _I was very much aware of who Peter Turner was and what fucking him meant.~_

**/\**

He was drunk and I was intent on having his nine incher in me.

I was very much aware of who Peter Turner was and what fucking him meant.

He was a good pick and something about that struck a nerve I had forgotten was there. He was sociable, a ladies' man and very much a part of the 'In Crowd'. I knew of him, because others knew of him.

He was quite the topic on campus.

And such a topic, no one knew, that loved fucking boys.

"Bad idea, dude." The familiar, deep voice rumbled next to me. Jacob rarely ever had an opinion in what I did. He was one of the few people I knew that were comfortable in my obsessed need to conquer the forbidden. Perhaps that was why he was my only friend. I would have never considered myself a social person, but Jacob did indeed satisfy that small need to have someone in my court, although the gaps in time when I did need such a person, was on _very_ rare occasions. I functioned better on my own.

"I don't see what's so bad about it."

He sighed, but remained silent. I knew if I looked over, I'd see sympathy. And I really didn't need that shit.

_Really._

It was because of Jacob that I was here. He knew people in Peter's circle and even better, he knew the _right_ people in Peter's circle. It had been him that told me just who Peter was. Peter was fuckable, but that just wasn't enough for a chase. Hearing just what Jacob had to say had in fact changed my interests.

It explained why I was somewhere I clearly didn't fit in.

The stares of hungry women watching Jacob and I as we passed wasn't pleasurable. If only these mindless drone twats knew then just how twisted their eye candy was...

"Edward, I only told you about Peter so you would, you know..." Jacob spoke again over the music, but I chose not to respond, because a 'No, I don't know' wouldn't suffice in our conversation. I knew exactly what he meant and there was no way around it.

Jacob knew me better than I ever wanted to let on, but fortunately I was able to work it to my advantage. After a few moments of brewing in our silence, Jacob finally got up.

"Good luck." He mumbled. He wasn't being genuine. I smirked, watching the curve of his muscular ass in his jeans. Jacob easily attracted as much attention as I did, but he was less inclined to use it for himself.

It was a waste, really.

I focused my attention back on Peter. It appeared that he was out of beer. I took this as my moment to close in. I grabbed my own empty, red cup and tailed him to the back of the frat house, bypassing and walking around drunken, obnoxious boys and attention seeking girls. What a shame. All that sex, and there was nothing they'd be getting out of it, but regret, a sticky mess and a hangover.

I knew better.

Peter was already emptying the keg when I walked in. Surprisingly, there was no line, but I was sure that it had to do with the tall, bulky fellow with the Patron and Jim Beam bottles offering shots. I didn't go with a swish of my hips or batting of the eye when I caught Peter's attention. I knew men like him. This wasn't something he knew would be coming, it was what he would _fall_ into.

"Any left?" I asked, giving him a perfected shy smile. It wasn't hard to observe the way his eyes darted to my lips. He wasn't necessarily interested, just appreciating the display.

"Just about done." He winked, before finishing his cup off. He pointed the skinny hose at my cup, "Need a refill?" His voice wasn't as deep as someone like Jacob's, but nonetheless, there appeared to be a rumbling allure to it. His eyes sparkled a dark green and I had to bite back a laugh. Well, at least I knew his lover's interest in men hadn't changed.

Peter's build was like mine, I noticed.

And he had the same facial features.

And hell - as I watched in surprise - he had the same smirk as well.

"Sure." I held out my cup, letting him take aim and fire. I couldn't _wait_ for later.

If there was anything that was actually completely different about Peter from me, it was his social life, his good character and his dark, close cut hair. Peter, like me, was a manipulator of people. I watched him cast the right smiles and words to the right target, earning him the response he desired. He was good. Good enough that it would have been easy for someone else to refill his cup, but like I said, that's where we differed.

It was clear, that Peter - like Jacob - seemed not to take advantage of a power they so easily had.

"Thanks." I allowed myself to whisper in a smaller voice.

"No problem." His eyes locked with mine and we exchanged smiles. I broke eye contact first, bowing my head to take a sip from the cup. The beer tasted flat and warm. This was my moment to work his interest and attention first, not his dick.

"Hey," He said gently as if he was worried of frightening a kitten, "I haven't seen you around. Are you new here?" Another thing that worked in my favor. The only people that knew me were those I fucked. Not many of them told anyone. I had a reputation - quite a massive one - that I secured in my pocket. I just didn't wear my dick with my face.

I shook my head, "No," I muttered, chewing my bottom lip tentatively just before raising my gaze through my lashes, "I don't go out much."

It took him a while to recover.

"Why not?" To distract himself from my 'innocent' behavior, he took a large gulp from his red cup.

"I guess I'm just not a people person."

"Is that so?" He cocked his head, "Then what brought you here?" It was the perfect doorway to a deeper conversation. I didn't hesitate to answer the question, although I had to pretend I was.

"My friend." I added, shifting weight to express discomfort with the topic, "He seems to believe it's up to him to bring me to a frat party to get..._laid._"

Peter chuckled, gulping down another wash of beer, "Well _that's_ easy." He said with an air of nostalgia.

"Not for me." I mumbled lightly.

He didn't hide his appreciative glance this time, "You're pretty damn hot. It wouldn't be a difficult task."

There was no way to fake a blush, so I averted my gaze, chewing my lip with a little more vigor. He seemed to get the idea.

"Don't worry," His voice was soft, "There's some single guys here that would gladly be interested." There was a short pat on my arm, one of comfort. But we both knew the physical contact was unnecessary.

I had him, whether he knew it or not.

I lifted my eyes, offering him a small smile of gratitude, "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Edward."

He held out a hand, offering me one hell of a sexy smirk, "Peter."

**xXx**

Our laughter rose in the empty kitchen. I let a hand limply fall against his shoulder as I rocked forward. I had no problems maintaining a normal conversation. I had Jacob to thank for that. It would have been nice to have Peter's trim form pressed up against me right there. I was so conveniently sitting on the counter, my beer gone and forgotten with my hand against this thin shirt. He didn't seem to mind. His own hand was planted close to my leg, but the way his body was angled, he was too far to be in the clutches of my thighs.

The music over time had become louder, more popular tunes filling the house, attracting buzzed fools, in need to dance off the alcohol. We had the kitchen all to ourselves, so the conversation had been more natural than I planned. It seemed I would be leaving the party, drained and accomplished before 1.

There was a holler somewhere in the belly of the house. I expected this. He was a popular guy and all.

"Yo Peter, man! Check this out!" He sobered up a bit, looking over his shoulder and down the hall before sighing. His eyes met mine and he chuckled again, most likely recalling the conversation we had just finished. 20 minutes and no mention of his boyfriend. Though I was sure he was in the closet with his friends, he didn't seem to be hiding his "preferences" with me. His touches were a second too long and his gazes were a level too intense. I could see he was attracted to me, but not only that, he was imagining what it would be like if I sucked him off, screamed his name, buckled under his weight.

I knew this, because like any other male, it was in his body language. He was suddenly hypersensitive, observing every lick of my lips, tug of my hair and laugh.

"I kind of lost track of time." He shook his head as if under a trance, "I'm sure it's something illegal I'm about to witness in the next room," He chuckled, "You're more than welcome to join the shenanigans." He offered.

It was too easy.

But not in my plans.

I organized my features into a regretful pout, "I've been away long myself. I'm going to check up on my friend." I jerked my thumb towards the front of the house. A look of disappointment flashed across his face, but his smirk was recovered.

"I'll see you around later." It was more a promise, rather than a statement. I surely didn't mind.

"We'll see." I answered ambiguously. Nothing like making a man question my interest.

I wanted to leave this one out to marinate.

The common phrase is inaccurate. Absence makes the mind _wander_ rather than the heart grow fonder. And I knew that Peter's mind would wander to me when I wasn't around.

His body heat was finally all his as he stepped away from me. With a wave, he was out of the kitchen, answering to the calls of his friends. I allowed my triumph to show on my face finally.

Oh Peter. You have no idea what you're in for.

**xXx**

We were at the point in the party where many would remember little. It was the perfect time. I had been pacing around, outside for a good hour. I caught sight of Jacob a few times. He knew to leave me to myself and I knew that he was more comfortable in the company of those whose motives were more instant in gratification, while their actions were the same as my own.

The air was cooler than I anticipated and I found myself back in the house, hoping to regain a bit of flush to my cheeks. The kitchen had filled considerably since my absence. There was another keg ready to be emptied and a few guys, along with some tastelessly dressed girls, were now taking shots. I walked back to the body of the party, noting the swaying bodies to the thumping music. Peter wasn't in the crowd. I didn't expect him to be. All night and he hadn't even kept up the act of interest for women. He kept his hands to himself.

He was the committed type.

Well, most of the time. I couldn't help the smile then. Everything was working in my favor. I combed around the house some more, catching a few couples making out in dark corners and hallways. When I heard the roars of voices and laughter, I knew where I would find him. In a rather open space that looked to be a game room sat a ping pong table with aligned red cups. A set of guys on either end were focused on one of them tossing a small ping pong ball; the aim being one of the cups.

He missed.

And there were groans of disappointment and hollers from the half dozen watching the game. I kept to the doorway of the room, noticing the dark head of hair as Peter bowed to pick a ping pong ball off the floor before cleaning it. He and his partner had matching smug looks as they eyed the last red cup.

"For the gold." His partner narrated.

"Shut the fuck up, Mario." The guy from the opposing team sneered. There was no time for a retort. Peter, with an expert flick of his wrist, tossed the small ball. It fell into the cup with ease.

There were hoots and hollers as one of the guys from the other team chugged whatever was in the cup. Peter exchanged a high five with his partner, catching his balance when he put too much weight into the gesture.

He was drunk.

The crowd rotated and there was another set of groups taking the table as Peter and his friend carried on a loud conversation. Peter slung an arm around his dark-haired partner's shoulders, pulling him in for a juvenile noogy, laughing. A few girls watched with longing. Too bad.

The boys finally pulled apart, laughing obnoxiously, before Peter's eyes caught sight of me. I feigned a shy wave before backing up, playing as if I've been caught watching when I didn't want to be. I was out of the room, walking in the direction of where the bodies were convulsing and grinding in their attempts at dancing. I felt the warm hand on my wrist and I turned, giving a startled looked.

"Hey, I was looking for you earlier." His eyes were swimming, but he appeared to hold himself quite well.

"I...uh." I covered my stammer with a smile, "I didn't know." It was a quiet realization. I had known. Peter caught on quick enough, so after thirty minutes of thinking, I'm sure he was looking for me.

"I thought you left." There was an edge of a slur to his speech. Sober, I knew Peter wouldn't be as open, hence why this opportunity was one in a million.

"Still here." My smile widened. It seemed to ignite something in him. And I was sure exactly what it was. He licked his lips, carefully watching mine before he spoke again.

"Hey, want a tour?" This was no time to bask in my talented manipulation, so I merely nodded, "Come, and let me show you places no one else is allowed to go." He didn't grab my hand, like I'm sure his friend Mario would have if it was a girl he was interested in, but he kept me close enough, letting me walk ahead as he guided, a hand on my hip. We trailed upstairs, knocking into couples and narrowly avoiding an angry drunk before we were on the second floor.

"Over here." He whispered in my ear and my eyes nearly rolled back at the sensation of his breath on my neck. I was ready to be seated on his dick right then and there. He opened some doors, letting me peak in. Most were messy rooms that the average frat boy inhabited, quite a few occupied. I could hear Peter chuckle behind me when we walked in on a busty red-head giving head to a blonde football player. He gave Peter the thumbs up before we closed the door.

"Sorry about that."

"It's alright," I shrugged, for the first time showing a truth to my nature. I had no problem with it, "If they want each other..." I allowed the rest to play in his imagination. And it did. His hand was loosely around my wrist and I could feel his chest inflate from behind me. The moment was taken from us when a group of frat boys ran by roaring and whooping in their drunken glee. Peter's grip tightened before he pulled me against him, my back completely in contact with his chest.

"That was close." He chuckled and I felt the vibrations in my back. I could tell he was nervous and I knew he was having that internal fight like they all did.

And he was losing.

"There's one more room." His voice was huskier. His hand never loosened around my wrist as he walked me to the door, opening it to reveal another room, this one cleaner, but still evident that someone lived in the space. He didn't need to ask. I stepped in and he followed. I was deep enough in the room, knees an inch away from the bed, picturing just how would have me.

Only time could tell.

And I was ready.

Feigning exhaustion, both of my hands cupped my neck as I rolled it, moaning in satisfaction. I massaged the muscles, fingertips touching the edge of my hairline, "Long night." I held a conversational tone, making my intentions as innocent as possible. I cracked my eyelids, meeting his gaze. They were hungry.

He closed the door and there was a loud click before he was marching over to me, not giving me a moment to ask him what brought his action on. His hands were cradling my face, his lips were warm and wet against mine and his chest was crushing my arms and hands between us.

The gesture was more intimate than I wanted, but nonetheless it drew out a low groan from the back of my throat. It had been awhile since a conquest of mine chose to dominate me like this. As if reading my mind, he pulled back as if second guessing himself.

"Is this okay?" His breath came out in puffs against my lips. Here he was, being a gentleman.

I nodded, knowing that if I spoke, the illusion would be over for him. This was a delicate situation. There was someone important waiting for him at home and I needed him to forget about it.

He walked me backwards until my knees were pressing against the mattress of the bed, "Do you want me to stop?" He tried again. In all my life, I had never seen someone so genuinely concerned about what I wanted.

Before him were creeps, rapists, married men, closeted men, naive boys, illusioned boys and...well, his lover.

I shook my head, before pressing my lips to his warm, pulsing flesh to let him know I was fully for this. Peter didn't hesitate to kiss me then, smooth pink lips puckered against my own. My appendages were still trapped between us, but I didn't mind as he was already caressing and touching every bit of me he could get his hands on.

The kiss became violently expressive, so much that it overwhelmed me. I felt control slipping from me without effort and I had to regain some form of focus. I pulled away. I felt the swell in my lips, the flush in my cheeks. I'm sure I looked innocent and unsure, but I was as sure as sin.

And I surely wanted to ride him.

Freeing myself from his clutches, I used my able hands to press against his hard chest. I didn't hide the moan of desire, feeling his muscle contract under my hand. My fingers stroked him through his thin shirt, testing out his contours. Is this what it felt like for the one who waited for him at home? He had this to hold every night?

"C'mere." His whisper was gentle, but I could taste every trace of primal want on his tongue when we kissed. His hands were under shirt, feeling my skin and his lips had now moved to my jaw, "God, you taste so good."

The good just don't taste as sweet as the wicked.

My shirt was off before I could digest that it was his intentions to get rid of it. Cool air rushed to meet my heated skin and I shivered. He eased my discomfort almost instantly, wrapping his arms around my waist before thrusting his tongue in my mouth. I tasted all of him and the bottles of beer he had throughout the night. I personally had alcohol to thank. It was the little fuzz his mind needed so he could make the wrong choice. So he could sleep with me tonight.

He embraced me like a lover, one palm on the small of my back, the other tugging the hair at the nape of my neck. Our kiss had slowed then to something I wasn't familiar with. His eyes were closed and his mouth worked against mine with fluid ease. I knew he wanted me, to feed into a desire that he shouldn't have, but it felt so different with him holding me there. _I_ felt different. And it was fucking suffocating. I pulled away again, my fingers already at the front of his jeans. I felt his cock pressed so deliciously against the thick fabric. He groaned and that was all I needed. I wasn't here to make love to him.

I lowered myself onto my knees with practiced ease, tugging at the denim. He watched me with lidded eyes, licking pink, swollen lips. He was too far gone in this to notice my out-of-character maneuver. In less than a few seconds, I had his zipper down, the flap of his jeans open and I was palming his hardening arousal and in even less time than that, my lips were pressed against his briefs, giving his cock an open mouth greeting as my tongue lapped against the cotton fabric. Two hands fisted my hair, urging me to go farther.

I didn't hesitate.

Pulling the elastic band out and directing it under a glossy tip, shaft and balls, I leaned forward, kissing his hips bone, running my tongue along it, just as my free hand came up to grip his wood. I hissed, feeling the burn in my scalp when he tugged. He wanted my lips on him, but I wasn't ready yet. I kept my strokes loose and slow, not allowing any friction. My lips continued to tickle and tease the sensitive flesh by his hip bone as he bucked and moaned from the lack of relief.

"Baby, come on." He seemed to be in another world, his eyes closed, head thrown back. Was Peter thinking about him? Imagining those full lips on his body?

I ceased my strokes and pulled away until the tip of his now hard and leaking cock was face-to-face with me. I tasted him, pressing the flat of my tongue against the slit, getting the desired responses from above. My lips took him in then, swallowing his length with the right angle of my jaw and the stroke of my tongue. I tasted his essence and his musk. It fueled my need for a release, for him to stretch my insides and make me buck and scream as I liked to do with the best tops. I knew I would be satisfied because I knew Peter to be a lot like me. He was an expert lover whereas I was an expert fucker.

His smooth sac sat heavy on my palms and the tip of his cock tickled the back of my throat and I loved every second of it. I suckled with all the skill I had and bobbed with all the grace I had until his nails were biting in my skin and he was taking in sharp breaths as if each small movement he made was that much of a step closer to the end. It wasn't. I allowed him to calm down when I finally pulled away. I watched him through my lashes, loving just how much of a positive response I was getting. His hands pulled at the strands of my hair, ordering me up and I obliged, climbing with my fingers, until they were palming his chest again.

"You're so fucking good." He whispered between pecks on my neck and cheek, "Thank you." I allowed him to express his gratitude. Our bodies were pressed together, his cock on my thigh, slick and warm, grinding for friction as he mumbled incoherent words against my skin. I was being escorted back to the bed again. He was ready.

We fell on quilt and pillows, completely wrapped in each other. My dick was trapped and abandoned within my jeans, but I felt his throbbing wood all the same. I wanted to feel him on me and _in_ me. As if reading my mind, Peter pulled back, frantically unbuckling my jeans. He had to fully stand up to get my pants pass my thighs and completely off me. My briefs and sneakers soon followed. I was completely nude, exposed to him while he still donned his jeans and t-shirt and it was exactly what I wanted. The less intimate we were, the better. Peter seemed to be an unusually tender lover and they were a rarity in the men I fucked. In fact, it was the second time in my life I ever experienced it.

He spared no time falling between my thighs, the heads of our cocks petting and stroking the other. The sensation was always pleasurable, but this time it wasn't enough.

"Mmmph!" He grunted, humping against me with the intention to get off, yet his kiss spoke an entirely different story. It was too slow, too gentle. I needed to take it up a notch.

I lifted myself on my elbows with much effort due to his weight, before completely throwing him off balance when I turned him on his back. He let out a huff of surprise, staring up at me with those dark green eyes. I enjoyed the view, so I took post over his engorged organ, "Fuck me?" I pleaded and his eyes widened. It was the first time I spoke since we kissed. It wasn't part of my plan to. This was too fragile of a situation and I only had one shot, but desperate times...

"Is that was you want, baby?" He cupped my ass with his hands, kneading skin as he waited for my nod of affirmation. I tried my best to ignore the endearing term. No one called me such names, because I didn't belong as that.

I was thankful to know what I did belong as though. I agilely hopped off his lap, descending down the bed to find my jeans. Just where I put it, secured in the back pocket, inside my wallet was the condom I had saved just for him. I was back on the bed, right where I had started, showing him what I had retrieved. With one hesitant glance at him, I used my last deceiving words, "I-I know it's always safe to have these." He gave me an assuring smile, lifting a hand to stroke my arm before moving it to the hand that clutched the rubber. Assuming I was a novice, he took it as his duty to secure himself, lifting it to his mouth before tearing it open. I watched silently, holding back any urge to take it back from him. It wasn't my nature to let men sheath themselves. It had always been my initiation, my control and my desire to protect them from myself while simultaneously destroying them. It was a ritual of sorts and it was all being shattered in honor of what I meant to attain from tonight.

"Lay down for me, baby." It wasn't an order, but I knew better than to not listen. He needed to believe he was in control until he was in me. I was flat on my back, him between my legs as he secured himself safely behind the rubber. It was lubricated, but he took no chances, leaning over me to grab the lotion conveniently seated on the nightstand next to the bed. This was a frat house after all. When he was sure he was slick enough, he used a lubed finger to prepare me.

Most men didn't even take the extra step to be considerate.

I allowed him this comfort, this sureness that I would get pleasure out of it. I allowed this and yet, I felt anticipation clawing at my insides - anticipation and anxiety. He was surely not sober and he took precautions as if he was. He was a cheater, yet he cared as if he wasn't. He was fucking me, but the illusion was that he wasn't. I got it from the back usually, or while sitting on top. But to be like this, to be face-to-face was nerve-wrecking.

It wasn't the fears of a novice that had me shaking, it was the intimacy. He noticed, and his words, though I'm sure would have been soothing for an _actual_ novice, it made me more uneasy.

He was entering me, his cock wasn't too thick, so he fell in with ease. His hands again cupped my face and his eyes fluttered closed as he gently filled me. He had to be thinking of his lover. This wasn't for me. It was _suffocating_.

His moans reverberated through me when we kissed and the denim of his jeans scratched and chafed my skin with each thrust. He was _holding_ me, _touching_ me and it was restraining and _sick_.

"Please," I was begging for control, yearning for it, "top, please." He pulled back, taking me with him until our roles were reversed and his head was at the other end of the bed.

I stretched my limbs as I was seated on his lap. This felt better. My thighs hugged his hips and my hands gripped the hem of his shirt, gaining some leverage as I lifted myself off him. This _was_ better. The moment took over instantly, all discomfort forgotten as my head fell back and I lost myself.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Peter chanted under me. I knew he never had it like this before - no restraints, no attachments, no need. It made sex liberating and it made the wrong so much better. Like many before him, I wondered if he felt his walls crumbling, the destruction of his life an orgasm away. He was to be a marvelous ruin, like kings and kingdoms that no longer existed, but always remembered. True chaos and magnificence are never forgotten.

He had to feel it with me.

He bucked his hips up, skin slapping against my ass as he held my waist. I knew I was moaning, screaming out when he hit my spot, but I couldn't hear it. I never could. The mere idea of his perfect life at his feet was arousing enough. The sex was a means to an end. That was all. His loss was the true orgasm.

"I'm- I'm-" His jerks lost rhythm, but the force came hard against my ass. My orgasm was blinding as I clawed and tugged at his shirt. He came not moments after, giving in to the convulsive clenching around him. And we fell from our high, his, a harder fall than mine.

Our shoulders were touching as we both breathed in gulps of air. I could feel him shaking next to me, sobering from the lust and beer. It was catching up.

And he was sitting up, panting and completely inconsolable. I watched with pride as he constantly raked his fingers through his hair, staring at nothing, his mind taking over. I took that as a 'Mission Accomplished'. Throwing on my shirt, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He was indeed beautiful and I couldn't help the curiosity that struck me even after some of my questions were answered.

What did they talk about? Did Peter make him laugh like I used to? Does he look at him with that intensity that made the world feel like it stopped moving? I could never understand it, or stomach it for that matter, but did Peter revel in what I had cowered away from? It was surprising that even now as I had fucked his boyfriend to oblivion, I was still clueless as to what they were and what was ending.

It was after I zipped up my fly when I heard him speak.

"Jasper." It was an agonized realization of what he had done. Sitting there with his head in his hands, completely defeated, he said his name. And he said it with the knowledge of it being over.

The adrenaline rush in my system gave me a light, euphoric feeling. I was suddenly floating. Hell, this was the best sex yet. Adjusting myself in my jeans, not surprised to find myself already twitching to life at my success, I walked to the door, all pretenses of the insecure college boy gone. I looked over my shoulder, casting the pitiful boy one last glance, "Tell him I said hi."


	4. Jasper

**.**

**.**

**Disclaimer** (I really hate these things): I'm not exactly easy on the dark or the different, so I'll put this out there for any of you who are reading it just for the sex. This chapter, and the ones follow it are dark, contain rape, mindfucks and a telling of a tragic anti-hero. You've been warned readers.

**And for added measures:** I know some may have seen this chapter title coming...but that is perhaps all you're getting accurate. Just a preparation, folks.

And with that, I thank those that have continued reading this. It's not sugar canes and puppies and at the same time, it isn't heartbreak, and beautiful angsty love...as of now.

**Characters are not my own.**

**xXx**

**Jasper**

_~He was one of the purest souls I knew, but he had understood who I was too well. ~_

**/\**

He was the only man I ever loved.

And the first man I torn apart.

Sitting in the living room with Jacob, laughing about whatever our buzz morphed our humor into, I felt somewhat normal. A college student with a roommate, enjoying the freedom of adulthood, actions and their consequences.

The biggest of consequence was on its way to my door.

"Fuck, Edward!" Jacob hissed, moving away from me, "You damn there spilled all your beer on me!"

I snickered, looking down at the wet fabric, soaked with liquid, revealing the brown skin under. I licked my lips, seeing the hardened bud. I leaned over, licking his flesh through the shirt and he tensed, "Cut it out, man." He groaned.

How long had I known Jacob Black had a constant hard-on for me? Since the day he sat next to me in Senior English. He was a beautiful boy, but unfortunately, life for him wasn't perfect. There was nothing I could mar, complicate or take away. He was perfectly flawed like me.

But he was still sex and I did get off on torturing such a tarnished, open soul.

Without thinking, I straddled his lap, rubbing my half awakened cock against his, "Is this the day Jacob Black fucks Edward Masen?" I teased, licking his full lips. I giggled when he groaned.

"Edward," He panted, bucking into my ass. I knew what his cock looked like hard. So fucking thick, it made my mouth water.

"Hmm?" I played innocent, pinching his nipple with my free hand. He growled.

"Cut it out!" He repeated. I pouted, "Aren't we watching a movie?" Another thing about Jacob Black. I was a tease with no intentions of fucking him, yet he was the only boy to ever turn me down.

With strong hands, he lifted me off his lap and placed me right where I was before. I laughed off the rejection and downed the last of the beer in the bottle. He didn't hide the lustful stare. He could deny himself of my teases all he wanted, but we both knew it would be me he thought about when he fucked his hand tonight.

We continued to mildly pay attention to the movie on TV as we both nursed a new bottle each. My right leg was comfortably on his, with my other tucked in front of me. He had one hand resting on my thigh, lightly stroking, but keeping it from getting sexual. Jacob had some practiced restraint I admired.

"Are we doing another party tomorrow?" Jacob finally asked. It had been my new hobby to occasionally make a guest appearance at frat parties on campus, taking the most unsuspecting before fucking them upstairs. My lips curled at the idea of Peter.

Something about O.P.P that made my gut tingle and drop as if being thrown into a freefall. This was even more satisfying. Peter was the forbidden fruit I had been waiting for and thanks to Jacob, I finally took a bite out of.

"Of course." I answered.

Jacob was silent for a moment as if thinking his words over, "Do you really find that fun, Edward?" It wasn't uncommon for Jacob to occasionally question my hunger.

"I do." I shrugged.

"Don't you ever think about I don't know, a relationship?" He asked quietly.

I cocked my head, staring at his profile as he kept his eyes on the TV, "Hmm," I feigned deep thinking, "I don't know. Have anyone special for me?"

He sighed, but kept silent. I nudged him with the leg in contact with his thigh, until he looked at me.

"I'm not made for that, Jacob." Rarely ever did I talk this deeply about what I did and why, but Jacob had stuck around this long. I trusted him more than anyone I knew, so there was no problem telling him this.

"How do you know that?" He challenged. How this boy remained optimistic after what life gave him, I would never know.

"Do you know different?" I asked, smiling when his eyes furrowed and his lips thinned, "You shouldn't worry about me so much. It's sweet, but not necessary." I teased. He was the only person I found myself speaking to without a motive or reason. Drinking beer and watching late night movies was a cause for a more innocent good time. I only allowed this in our space, in his company. Fucking whomever I wanted, destroying something perfect before coming home to a life more like everyone else's.

"It's very necessary." He said softly, before turning back to the movie.

Before I could question his honesty, there was a bang on our door. An angry, demanding bang. Jacob looked over at me with questioning eyes. I wasn't expecting anyone and even if I was, it wouldn't be on a night we reserved earlier in the week and my company wouldn't have knocked in such a way.

Whoever this was had no intentions of going away until they were acknowledged.

"Piss anyone off lately, Jake?" I asked.

"No," Jacob shook his head, "Isn't that more your memo?" He asked. It would have been offensive if it wasn't true. Jacob knew all too well how easy a man could get violent after a tumble with me. I wouldn't say I was tactless, though I did disregard consequences. Some didn't like being ignored, while others clearly couldn't face fucking a guy when a girl was waiting for them at home. There were a handful of times when Jacob became my fists, when those said men got a bit too physical in their rage.

"Should I answer then?" I made to get up, but with one strong hand, my ass was meeting the couch again. Jacob was well aware that this wasn't a friendly visitor.

"Stay there." He ordered, getting up before placing his beer on the coffee table. I listened as he marched to the door, imagining him straightening his spine, letting his broad shoulders widen his build. He wasn't a small man at all. With a good three inches on me and much more muscle mass, Jacob knew how to have a man back down. I heard the door open and there was a moment of silence, before I heard a voice.

"Where is he?" It was the best foreplay ever bestowed upon me. My cock twitched in delight at the sound of anguish, anger and fear.

"Who?" Jacob asked his deep voice threatening and cool.

"Edward." He didn't seem to care that a man stood before him that could knock him until he couldn't walk, "I need to see him."

"What you need to do is leave." Jacob warned. Like a protective pup. I giggled in delight, enjoying the exchange, but nevertheless stood on my feet and went to the door.

"It's okay, Jake." I voiced, now able to see the back of my bodyguard's head, blocking the doorway. I placed a hand to his arm, "He's fine."

Jacob didn't move for a handful of seconds, before he finally relaxed, "Alright," He said gruffly, "You touch him, hurt him or even look at him wrong, I'll fuck you up." He warned and moved. My eyes met blue just then and a foreign feeling stirred in my chest. I knew it once.

"Long time…" I smirked, marveling in the way his hair was still resting in beautiful golden waves. He was taller, more filled out, but the look on his face was the most different. There was no love there.

"What the fuck did you do?" He growled. I heard Jacob's bedroom door close and silently thanked him that he didn't strictly stick to his warning. He knew where the line was and when to step in although this time around, I didn't need a line.

"I believed you just answered your question, love," I wasn't light with tormenting, "_fuck_. That's all I know what to do." Fury flitted over his beautiful features, "Care to come in?" I asked, stepping out of the doorway to give him space. He marched in without hesitation, his chest heaving. He was a sight for sore eyes.

"Peter told me what happened."

I couldn't help the chuckle that rumbled through me, "They usually do." I said to myself, but knew he caught what I voiced.

"You wanted me to find out." It wasn't a question. If there was one thing I appreciated Jasper for, it was being smart enough to understand how deep my motives could get. He was one of the purest souls I knew, but he had understood who I was too well.

Well, enough to run away.

But that's neither here nor there.

"Why Edward?" And suddenly he sounded defeated, lost. He should know why. We were 15 when I admitted to myself I was in love with him. It was an odd moment in my life. The confusion of something so good, so _right._ It was too much. Holding him when he slept, touching his body, and hearing those three words. We were too young to know what it was, to understand just what _we_ were. He fucked me once. And that's all it took before the fantasy crumbled away and the sadist in me took over. I tortured him, unleashed my history, my desires, my demons.

He couldn't look at me the same knowing my father got to me before he could, that I enjoyed his discomfort. It turned me on. And when he found out about the others...

I never knew a greater release. The pain in his eyes...

"Because I can." I simply answered.

Jasper grew up. I know this because of the sharp ache in my jaw where his fist had collided. There were tears in his eyes when I was finally able to turn back. I hold my cheek gingerly and laugh. Tears sting my eyes as well and I laugh harder. His pain is still like nectar on my tongue.

"I fucking _hate _you!" He says with so much venom, it floored me.

"_Good_!" I say just as viciously, my laughter dark and joyous. That's all I ever wanted from him; hate. His love left me uneasy and undeserving. I wasn't used to the affections, the need, the yearning. It was suffocating, so fucking comforting, I thought I'd lose my breath. It was numbing and light. I wanted something heavy and painful. I needed that burn and agony. And it was so fulfilling seeing it in those eyes of his, "How does it feel, Jasper. How does it feel hating me so much?" I asked, honestly curious.

"Terrible." He sobbed, shoulders curved in defeat. Did Peter confess what happened, sobbing, pleading? The image was erotic.

"What do you want to do to me?" My voice is laced with lust. He's beautiful with glistening eyes, tear trails along his cheeks. It had been 4 years since I was able to be blessed with his presence and I realized just how much I missed it.

"I want you to feel what it's like to hurt like this. I want you in pain." He confessed, clutching his chest. I nodded, comfortable with his answer.

"Show me pain," I opened my arms, welcoming anything he had to offer, "Do whatever you want."

I was taken by surprise when he walked the small distance between us, crushing his lips to mine in a violent need. His hands are vices around me, tears mixed into our open mouth frenzied greeting. I followed his lead, running twitching fingers through his soft locks. No matter how much I tried, a piece of me had not forgotten what it felt like touching his hair, taking in his scent.

We were young those years ago, but knew what we were feeling.

And though much of it is gone this time around, the nostalgia is enough fuel to keep me connected to him.

_Destroy me._ I pleaded.

A part of me knew that was just what he intended to do.

He was forceful, backing me away from the door. His fingers were ripping at the base of my hair, forcing my neck to comply so my head fell back. It hurt so good. His teeth bit roughly on my skin. I knew there would be bruises and it was what had me grinding against him.

"Fuck me until I beg you to stop, Jasper." I pleaded. There was such carnal passion in his eyes, I almost mistaken this moment for something else. The trail of thought made my heart patter in my chest and my breath catch.

"Where's your room?" He growled, he sounded so raw. I blindly led him to my room, the door open.

He didn't take the time to look around at my living space, or to make conversation as he quickly undressed. The hunger in his eyes said enough.

"Condoms." He barked and my knees shook. I reached over to my nightstand, taking out the square of foil. Before I could open it, he took it from me, ripping it with his teeth before he mechanically placed it on his swollen dick. I leaned on the palms of my hands, watching just how easily he secured himself into the condom. And it hit me. He's done this before, he fucked Peter like this, I assumed. He loved others after me. Jasper moved on and I was a nightmare from his past, walking back into his life.

And here he was, giving me what I wanted to be rid of me forever. The pain in my chest was unbearable, catching in my throat as I stared back at him. Despite my protests, my cock lost some of its wood.

"Turn over." Was his only order, and I did as I was told, still clad in my jeans. He didn't wait for me to undress myself. His fingers expertly undid my jeans and he jerked them down until they were right under the swell of my ass. My cheeks were flat against the sheets, my fingers tightened around them as I waited for him to make the next move.

There was little preparation. I bit back a scream when I felt the head of his cock push through the ring of muscle. My insides burned and I did all I could to stop myself from crying out. If Jacob heard, he'd have Jasper on his ass in the hallway of the apartment building. There was a grunt above me, before Jasper was fully in me. His chest was against my back, his forehead resting between my shoulder blades as he started with quick, hard jerks of his hips. My thighs quivered from holding his and my weight up and the clenching in my chest was stronger than ever.

I recalled this position, the cold contact. No touching, no shared words. The condom, the orders. My eyes burned.

And with a rough jerk, he began picking up his pace, letting his body rule his thrusts. He didn't prepare me, so the burn only worsened and I couldn't help the cry of pain that left me.

And like that a hand was clamped over my mouth. My body stilled and the flashes of a heavy weight on my back, an enormous invading intruder in me was brought back to life. The tears were fresh and big against my cheek. And I was surprised once again when I felt the same drops of pain patter on the back of my neck. He was crying too.

"Is this what you want, Edward?" He asked in a pained whisper, "Do you want me to make you feel like this? Do you want to feel what it was like then? Do you want me to hurt you?"

It was a strangled cry he heard first when he removed his hand, but I was able to finally answer, "Yes." But I knew then, that it wasn't something I wanted anymore. This felt too real. I forgot the lack of control I had, how much I cried after he left me, sticky wetness between my thighs, my body curled into a fetal position. I forgot how scared I was after. I was so invested in controlling, destroying others, that I lost the sense of what it was like to be victimized.

And Jasper knew this.

Whether it was a lesson he was teaching me or a helpful reminder, I knew one thing for sure, Jasper no longer loved me. My pain was no longer his own, even as he cried over me then, he kept up with his thrusts.

"I'm sorry, Edward." I knew he wasn't.

His orgasm came quick. With one last grunt, his forehead remained between my shoulder blades, before he pulled away from my aching body. I heard the snap of the condom, but I didn't need to ask where he put it. If he regarded me as nothing more than a fuck, I could guarantee he threw the used rubber where he pleased.

I remained on my stomach, body hurting and trembling all the same. This was what I wanted from him. I wanted to feel this, I continued to tell myself.

"Stay away from us." He warned, "I gave you what you wanted, Edward. Now please..." He didn't finish.

Not wanting to exacerbate the pain, I didn't move my lower torso, merely nodded. I knew the cold tone, the anger was still there. I stilled again, feeling warm hands in my hair. It was the only intimate touch he gave me all night and it was that that cracked whatever had me going these last 4 years. He left without another word. I heard the apartment door close and I was left alone. I moved, quickly regretting it as I tried to pull my body into a familiar fetal position.

This was what I wanted.

This was what I wanted.

I felt the warmth then, coating my upper thigh, wetting my ass. A curious hand fell between my thighs, fingering the sticky warmth. My breath caught, knowing the familiar texture. I moved my hand to my line of sight, observing the maroon liquid.

Then I was flooded with images.

A tear stained pillow.

Red fingers.

My father's glinting green eyes when he kissed me goodnight.

I heard the wails before I knew who it was. They were agonizing, fearful and desperate, ripping from _my _chest_._

"Edward!" There were strong hands moving me and my screams were louder. It was him, he was back for me. But I was stronger now, older and more able to handle him.

I fought and cried, my throat raw from use, "NO! GET THE FUCK OFF ME! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" I was a screaming child in an adult body. My kicking legs were avoided, but my arms were held down.

"Please, honey." There were pleads, "It's only me, okay? It's Jacob." My screams were quieted to whimpers as I finally allowed the hands to coax me against a wide chest.

I had no recollection ever of being rocked before. The feeling of being comforted was new to me. My body froze in anticipation. No one would do this to me, no one could.

When I was finally calm enough, I parted my eyes. He was looking me over, examining the bruise I was sure was evident on my chin.

"He hurt you." He whispered.

"No." I denied.

"Edward, how did you get that bruise then?"

"I did it to myself." And indeed, that was the truth. I manipulated Jasper to hurt me.

"Did you also rape yourself?" He asked, anger causing his voice to rise.

"It was what I wanted."

"What you wanted?" He roared, "The fuck it was." And he was gone, off the bed, walking towards the door as if he was ready to leave.

My body shook at the thought of Jasper being caught by Jacob. The damage that could be done... An hour ago, it would have been something to laugh about. But now, it made the clench in my body, tight and unbearable.

"NO!" I screamed out, just as my body convulsed and I fell over the side of my bed, letting out the bottles of beer I drank on the floor next to me.

"Shit, Edward." He panicked, already picking me up off the floor, "Edward, honey. Please, help me understand what is going on."

**xXx**

I got up off the bed, finding my discarded jeans, before throwing them on. Next was my shirt, then my socks, then my shoes.

Another straight boy. This one engaged to a pretty blond I had met earlier at the party. If only she knew just how much her fiancée enjoyed filling me up, taking me from behind as I let out wails of pleasure, grinding my hips against his before he exploded stream after stream of his load into my willing ass.

He was massive, intimidating and after I expected him to turn over, faced with what exactly he was before mashing me with his fists until I was nothing like the boy he met hours before. But I was disappointed to find out that this man had already tarnished a perfect relationship when he groaned out how good I was compared to all the others.

Perfection in disguise.

I left him there, sleeping off his orgasm and was met with cool, night air. It wasn't a long walk back to the house, so I didn't mind the journey.

Winter break during freshman year was more of a refreshing relief than any other school vacation. School was time consuming and tricks were better, even after the night with Jasper. The only thing I regretted was letting Jacob see that side of me. I had been hiding it so well I even tricked myself into believing there were no cracks in my creation. It took a month for me to pick myself back up, but when I did, it was as if nothing happened. As much as I appreciated Jacob, and admittedly needed him around after that night, I couldn't let him know that being what I was something I had regretted from time to time.

I enjoyed getting my hands dirty, destroying others and ripping bits of my soul away, but there were moments where I sat in our apartment reliving what Jasper did. Somehow it crept in and planted a seed. I was back to my old games, but I was doubting myself.

I was back in my hometown, although there was no reason for me to be. Jacob didn't want me home alone, but I didn't want to spend time with his family, so that resulted in both of us driving back to Forks, him to his father's and I to my old home. I hadn't spent much time with my mother or her beautiful husband. I got lost in what I had missed out on when I was away from home.

As if on cue, I found myself walking in the direction of the church. I smirked remembering Riley. He was a special one in the batch of boys I tasted. The only true innocence I known and longed for. I could admit this now with the seed of doubt in my mind, with this new _perspective_ of what I really was.

I wondered how life was for him now. Was that moment forever etched in his mind? Did he find it hard to move on from what sins he committed? Did it keep him up at night? Did he think of me?

I hoped he did.

The church wasn't far from home. I walked under the starry sky and darkened sidewalk, looking towards the neighborhood ahead. I didn't hear the footsteps, but I felt the presence behind me even before a hand was on my lips and the other was wrapped around my neck.

"Do as I say and you won't get hurt." I listened as the raspy voice ordered me to move towards the vacated parking lot of the church, right behind the massive garbage tank. My cheek met the solid metal as I was thrown against the garbage. A forearm was pressed against my head and the free hand jerked and tugged at my jeans.

I knew what he wanted.

I didn't plead for my life, because I was well aware of its worth. I just prepared as I had done 9 years before. My mind was on overdrive, my body hypersensitive as I took in the rotten smells of the trash and the way fingers pressed into my lower back. The stranger was panting, aroused at the sight of my bare ass in the moonlight.

"You like this, don't you?" The question was so much like Jasper's weeks before. His laughter was dark and gleeful, as mine had been that night also. I clenched my eyes shut, but my body trembled in his grasp, "Tell me you want me to fuck you." Flashes of my father asking me the same question flooded my memory.

"I want you to fuck me." It was a whisper of a request, but it seemed to be all the 'go' he needed. I was pushed until I was bent at the hip and he wasted no time invading my body.

The pain was more overwhelming than when I was with Jasper. I couldn't fight the whimpering cries that came out of me. The pain was crippling. Calloused hands gripped my ass, stretching me farther before an arm secured around my waist, keeping me up.

My palms rested against the rusted metal and I fought the gasps and cries of pain.

I thought of Jasper and what I done to him, how I deserved what he gave me.

I thought of my father and how I existed around him, how I deserved what he gave me.

I thought about all the men I fucked after, hoping I'd get what I deserved and feeling the disappointment that I never did. That seed of doubt had grown and the joy I got from other's pain had blossomed in the satisfaction I wanted for my own, the lashings I needed for my sins.

It didn't escape me that this particular punishment be in the parking lot of a church.

My rapist, my Father.

And my _father._

My knees buckled when he pulled out, when he finished. As if in prayer, my hands clasped in front of my trembling lips before I fell against asphalt, staring at the starry sky.

My savior had disappeared into the night.


	5. Father Aro

**Author's Notes: **Oh, hello there. I know most of you hate me. I completely understand, though I like you to know that this story can't be finished if you assassinate me...so...

**Disclaimer**: Mentions of rape and discussions of religion.

**xXx**

**Father Aro**

_~How many lives have I wrecked, parts of my soul I torn willingly for a slip in their morality, a crack in their righteous armor?~_

_/\_

I had never expected to see the hazel eyes again.

"Thank you, Father," were the first words he spoke, when he noticed I was awake, "Edward, how do you feel?" He asked. I smiled, realizing that perhaps I had left the hell I created behind and was staring at my angel. He had grown an inch or two, but the pure light around him was still there.

Perhaps I only blew a saint.

"I'll let Dr. Cullen know you're up." He stood on his feet, rushing out the door as if the place was on fire.

I took in my surroundings then.

White walls, monotone beeping. I had been here enough to know what this was.

A hospital.

Why was I here?

I made an effort to sit up, but the palm on my chest held me back. I hadn't seen Jacob. He was sitting on the other side of the bed, facing the door, "Lay back, honey." He was gentle, gingerly pushing me back.

"Jacob, why-"

"Do you know how you got here?"

I tried moving again, but there was a roaring pain trickling up my spine. I fisted the sheets in pain, gasping out in pants.

"Edward!" Jacob was at his feet, a hand on my shoulder, "What is it? Where does it hurt?" I couldn't answer. I didn't have the breath to, "Your father is coming, okay?"

I gulped back another scream as the doors opened again. My step-father, not a day older than when I first laid eyes on him, had a look of distress about him, now more so than ever.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him, boys." He nodded to Riley and Jacob. I watched the exchange through pain and confusion. What the hell was going on? "Edward, son, relax for me, alright?"

"Why am I here?" I demanded.

Dr. Cullen and Jacob exchanged looks before he spoke again, "Edward can you tell me the last thing you recall?"

I scanned his face, trying to understand why'd he'd ask me something like that, but to humor him, I skipped through a fuzz of images to something clearer.

"I'm here for winter break." I finally spoke. The warmth of Jacob's fingers sought out my own. I allowed him the contact for the moment.

Carlisle nodded in encouragement, taking a few steps in the direction of where I was, "Good. Anything else?"

I shut my eyes concentrating. It was strange. I couldn't recall much else.

Except…

That beautiful, massive boy. I remembered quite clearly, how our eyes met across the room and how I subtly winked at him before slinking away. He followed, cornering me in the vacant hallway, pressing his hard dick against my ass, and then pushing me against the wall. I had taken the risk of recklessly flirting before any confirming signs he'd want what I had to offer. I was hoping I'd be wrong, but there was still a chance after sex.

He fucked me good and hard and I enjoyed myself. I thought about his fiancée when I came and it was almost like as things were before.

But after, I felt the seeds of doubt and when he failed to lash out any homophobic punches, I left.

I left.

"I went out." It wasn't rocket science. I didn't need to say much more before the look of anger settled over Jacob's face. The pressure on my fingers increased.

"Did you...meet anyone?" My stepfather's eyes were the same mirroring Jacob's rage. It was almost comical.

"Yes, but I left to go home." Both looked partially relieved, but clearly there was something I was missing.

I felt my brain work harder, retracing my footsteps. I left the quiet neighborhood, walked in the direction of home, pass the church.

The church...

"I got you, honey." Jacob shh'd. I hadn't noticed his movement or how he embraced me tightly to his chest. Carlisle stood a good distance away, a grim look about him. I had no idea what just happened, but one thing was clear; I understood why I was here.

It came as a surprise to me how my fingers dug into the shoulder blades of Jacob and it came as a surprise to me that he didn't mind. His warmth enveloped me, drowning out the cold of the metal bed and white walls. His lips brushed along the curve of my neck, whispering words of reassurance against me as if desiring to leave an imprint. He didn't let up until my body's shivers subsided.

"Edward," Carlisle spoke in his calm doctor voice. It was one of the things I found most attractive about him. How he attempted to take control even when he lacked it, "I don't want you to relive this _ever_ again, but we're going to need to file a report."

"No report." My voice came out hoarse and raw. I grimaced at how weak I sounded. I turned away, ending the conversation.

"Edward," Jacob pleaded.

"No report." It came out sharper this time around, a little more like my normal self, but it was difficult to regain composure and authority in this bed once again a victim. Flashes of my father's face derailed my train of thought momentarily. My eyes focused only when the tips of Jacob's fingers caressed my jaw. Our eyes met and I was compelled to look away. I didn't like what I saw there. I didn't want that suffocation right now.

Carlisle sighed, "We'll I need to at least check and see if there was any tissue damage," I felt my body steel at the words, "What would make you feel comfortable, Edward, a women or male?"

My eyes remained averted from either gazes. "You."

**xXx**

He was gentle.

More gentle than ever before.

"Okay." He finally spoke, gingerly sealing the long swab into a small tube, "You can lay back." I did as I was told. His hands shook as he removed the latex gloves, but his voice remained steady, "Edward, did you at least get a look at your attacker?"

"I'm not reporting this, Doctor." I replied flatly.

"I know, but if there is anything I could do-" I couldn't help the manic laugh that erupted from my chest. My doctor, my occasional fuck buddy gave me a wounded look and I laughed harder.

"You want to save me _now_, Doctor?" I shook my head, "You didn't seem to mind pinning me against a wall while on-call." The guilt in his eyes said enough. He looked away momentarily before gathering the courage to meet my gaze again.

"The first thing I thought when I saw them bring you in was that this was my fault."

Despite the throbbing everywhere in my body, I leaned back against the pillow on the bed, "Don't take the credit." I teased.

"If I could have helped you, Edward, taken you to see a therapist..." Carlisle's voice wavered, before it died away completely, "If I could have been a better father to you than him..."

My chest suddenly felt compressed, "Shut up." I ordered. I preferred him when he was fucking me. He did just as I ordered, dropping the topic.

"Jacob called your mother. It would be wise not to worry her-" I snorted. It takes much to worry the bitch, like a hand in her pocket, "He's explaining that you're spending Christmas with his family." It had slipped my mind how close we were to the holidays. I was raped the day before Christmas Eve, "Riley is currently speaking to the Officer about where he found you."

What a miracle, corrupt an angel and he still has the heart to save you when you're down.

"I won't push for a report, Edward, but I can't back down this time. This is not something you can dust off and walk away from. I know a good therapist-"

"You have got to be shitting me." I cut him off. There was no way I was seeing a shrink. I wasn't crazy and I wasn't a pill popping housewife.

"You have demons that you need to face."

"Doctor, has it ever crossed your mind that I may _be_ a demon, the devil incarnate?"

"No, son, it hasn't." He fingered the evidence on the metal tray next to him, "Your attacker was smart. He used some form of protection, so I was unable to gather any semen samples. There appears to be no internal bleeding or permanent damage, but you'll need to be off your feet for a few days. He did tear some tissue in the anal cavity and left a few cuts and bruises here and there but other than that you have been extremely lucky." he hesitated for a moment, "You'll still need a check-up. We want to make sure no diseases were transmitted."

"You said he used a condom." I pointed out.

"We still need to make sure, Edward."

"You sure this isn't about me being a danger to others?" I questioned, noting how his expression contorted very much into what I could only assume was paternal concern.

"No," He shook his head in defeat, "Only to yourself." My back tensed and my hands clenched at my sides as he approached me slowly. A hand cupped my cheek and I watched him with wary eyes.

"I can't take back what I done. I took advantage, and for that I'm sorry. You didn't deserve any of what was given to you, Edward." I watched him, waiting for the joke, the catch to his words. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to crush his lips to mine, separate my thigh with his hips and fuck me until I forgot what it was like to ever to fight off a predator, so I could revel in just _being _one.

"I'll get Jacob. He's waiting right outside the door."

**xXx**

Two days. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

I felt the fingers dig into my hips, the rough palm flattening along the curve of my back. The pain was immeasurable. I woke up clutching whatever I could to get away. Hands reached out to me and I fought.

"Hey, hey," It was the familiar husky voice. My body automatically relaxed, but my mind still struggled.

_You get what you deserve, Edward._

"Edward, maybe if you talked about this..." He finally spoke after minutes of holding me against his chest. I ignored the wetness soaking his t-shirt or the fact that the house groaned with movement as Jacob's father moved down the hall towards the room. He knocked once, letting us know he was there.

"We're fine, dad." And that was all he needed to go back to bed.

Christmas morning. I'd never known a better one.

For whatever reason, Jacob lied to his father claiming I was mugged. At least it was the partial truth. My mother, on the other hand, knew nothing. And it was staying that way.

I moved away from the heat of his wide chest and curled against the pain traveling along my back. I still couldn't move much, causing me to be trapped on the island of his bed in the small room at the end of the hall. He never left me alone for more than 5 minutes. I didn't allow myself to tell him what that did for me. Being in one place for such a short time was preying on my patience and eating at my nagging fear in the back of my mind.

Yet I sat there and drew in a breath to speak, "What is there to talk about?" My words were as dead as I felt. Jacob had become my light conversationalist, my sunny personality in the recent years, but even I couldn't muster the immature interaction now. He hadn't even tried due to recent events.

"Please don't do this, not now." He was angry. That, I could understand and work with better than any other emotion he had expressed in the days after my hospital visit. I couldn't suppress the desire to have him hit me, yell and shake my body in agitation. He was walking on egg shells and I knew it was driving him insane.

"I'm doing nothing."

I felt the heat of his stare, but my eyes traveled in the dark room, keeping away from his knowing look. Jacob could read me, I forgot. The bed sunk next to me before I felt the tips of his fingers under my chin, "Look at me, please." My eyes focused on him, "This is me, honey. I won't see you differently and you know that."

He appeared sure of this.

My chest tightened and my heart rate picked up. I didn't want him to see.

"Wouldn't you?" I calmly asked, feeling a bit of myself return. I leaned into his touch momentarily before falling back into his embrace, my lips secured on his neck.

"Edward," He pleaded.

"Would you still want me now?" I asked, working my free hand up his tight, muscled thigh. He groaned, "How badly do you want me, Jacob?"

Jacob whimpered and moved my hand from his thigh, "Edward, please, we can talk."

"Or you can fuck me as you always wanted." I offered. I was still in pain, but if he put his hands on me, kissed me, wanted me, then perhaps I could forget, I could have control again.

My tongue ran between his parted lips, lapping at his beautiful brown skin, "Fuck me, Jake." My teeth grazed the distinctive line along the column of his neck before I trailed a path to his mouth. I pecked his full lips once, then twice, but he didn't respond. In desperation, my hands gripped him through his thin briefs. He was barely responding.

In disappointment and consuming fear I moved my hand as if his entire body was on fire. Despite my physical condition, I shot across the other side of the bed, my jaw tight and tense, "Things change. That's all there is. There's nothing to talk about."

"I can't, Edward." He spoke up, "I never could."

I mocked his excuse with a humorless laugh, "But at least before, I was chipping away at your self-control."

"I don't want to make this worse."

"You're doing nothing wrong, Jacob. You're being just what is expected from a man with a conscience." Oh, how I wanted to strip that away from him.

Even in the dark room, I could see Jacob's face contort into anger, "You're not making anything better for yourself when you fight off your past with fucking random strangers," He inhaled, hesitating for a second before pulling out the final blow, "and it doesn't feel too good to know that you'd throw away our friendship for sex just to feel better about yourself." Those words...

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I knew this. I always have. It had felt good to forget, to victimize, and to know I had the power. I wanted it back, but was I desperate enough to rob it from the only person I allowed myself to fully trust? Jacob may have not been the quintessential best friend, but he was the closest thing to one I ever had and it made me sick how much I wanted either of us to destroy the other.

It made me sick.

"I'm sorry." I lost all sense of awareness momentarily, only to be brought back by his embrace. I felt the anxiety roll through me, "I'm sorry this had to happen to you and I'm sorry for snapping at you like that." I felt his breath fan over my hair and his fingers caress the nape of my neck, "Let me in when you're ready."

**xXx**

"You're healthy." Carlisle looked over his clipboard of notes before he met my eyes. He appeared more relieved than I felt, but then again I had never been worried.

"Seems I live to see another day." I answered bitterly. The last week had been hell. Nightmares, waking up to Jacob's arms around me, feeling comforted, and then scared and then…It wasn't something I was used to. I had been trapped in that small house in that small bed and wasn't allowed to leave Jacob's sight unless it was to use the bathroom or for him to sleep. Sitting in the office with Carlisle had been a blessed relief, even if I had to sit under another scrutinizing eye.

"You do." Carlisle answered solemnly, looking me over. He sighed, "And you're nearly healed Edward, so there's no need to stay in bed all day, though I'd advise against going out too often and recommend you keep away from your…activities for another week or so." I raised an eyebrow in amusement, combing my eyes over my Doctor in his formal, medical attire. He consciously shifted and cleared his throat. Maybe if I played my cards right…

But Carlisle was smart, changing the subject before I could slip off the bed and slink over to him, "I called a colleague in Seattle. She's a well-known therapist who helps those that have been abused-"

I felt my heart hammer in my chest at the thought of sitting in a room with a stranger, being more honest than I ever found myself with even Jacob. It frightened me more than a stranger in a vacant parking lot, much more violating. I sneered, "I'm not-"

"Not going to what?" Carlisle cut in abruptly, an edge to his tone, "Get help? Get over a dark past?"

I silently held his gaze, unable to admit that a dark past unvisited kept me as I was, kept me from caring about who I destroyed, kept to feeding my need for chaos.

"She was kind enough to offer her help. All you have to do is call." He dug a hand into his pocket before extracting a small slip of paper, "At least consider, Edward." He held out the card for me to take. I appraised it with an air of resentment.

There was a moment of silence between us, before he spoke again, this time pleading, "You're having nightmares, reliving that night, irritable, scared and unable to cognitively process the extent to which the violation has harmed you. That's symptoms of Rape Trauma Syndrome, similar to P.T.S.D. and I believe this isn't the first time this has happened to you. You can end this _now_." I bit the inside of my cheek, eyes flittering between the card and his eyes. I was aware Carlisle knew of the nightmares because of Jacob. Of course, they both wanted the same thing. It shouldn't have been a surprise that they were working together.

I took the card.

It was a heavy weight in my hand. I stared at it, considering if only for a moment, what might happen if I called the number…

"Thank you." Carlisle smiled softly, before turning to his clipboard once again, "Are you still feeling any sharp pains from your injuries." He wisely abandoned the topic falling back into his Doctor voice.

"No." I answered, throat dry and mind attempting to catch up to what exactly I held in my hand.

"Okay, that's good. You're good to go, Edward. Jacob is waiting outside. I'll let him know that your bed-rest is no longer required." Something else occurred to him, "And Riley, the young man that was here with you while you were in care, he left something for you. You checked out before I could pass it over."

I raised my eyebrow in question, but Carlisle gave nothing away.

He turned, ready to step out of the small room, hand on door before he stopped again, "I filed for a divorce."

Before I could reply, Carlisle stepped out of the room.

**xXx**

Jacob asked me what it meant.

"That I need saving." I teased, but Jacob's stare was somber and pained. I shrugged, "He was an altar boy, so I suppose it's his way of saying 'get well'." I hadn't seen much of Riley after I awoke. I heard he stopped by often, but only ever while I was asleep. I didn't think it had anything to do with not being able to face his corruptor face-to-face, rather I believed he was sparing me something. What it exactly was, I wasn't sure. My fingers traced the black book's cover. He took great care of it. It was as if it had been in my mother's closet all this time. Had he read from it? And if he did, did I ever cross his mind? I hoped so. Though now, I wasn't sure if it was for the same reasons as before.

"Maybe he wants to see you again." Jacob propositioned.

I felt myself frown. "I wouldn't see why he would leave me his bible then."

"So you can have a reason to see him." His face was unreadable then as he looked forward towards the road. I wasn't sure if he was stating or merely contemplating.

"A reason for what?" At that, he shrugged.

A bible and a therapist card. Could a therapist and God save me simultaneously? The thought was rather amusing even considering my dilemma. How many lives have I wrecked, parts of my soul I torn willingly for a slip in their morality, a crack in their righteous armor? I sold my soul to lead the devil's army and yet the good and serviceable desired me? I was waiting for the catch. I had been waiting since Jacob first held me after one of my dreams, since he waited on me, since Carlisle looked at me with those blue eyes, not of possession or chaotic desire, but of compassion.

The punch line was coming.

"Let's go ask Riley and see." But I wasn't going to wait for it.

**xXx**

The morning service had just wrapped up when Jacob pulled the car on the sidewalk. I had ignored how my fingers dug into the seat at a glance at the parking lot, how he knowingly chose to place the car away from it. He shot worried glances my way, but didn't say anything. Jacob knew me well enough to realize I would completely disregard his concern.

The engine cut off just as the last of the herd slipped out of the big doors. I didn't except the church to be empty now, but empty enough to spot and talk to Riley who I was more than sure had the pew closest to Father Aro.

"Hey," Jacob's whispered voice cut off my thoughts, "Do you want me to get Riley?"

I knew there had to be quite a few cracks in my armor if I was actually considering Jacob's offer. I sucked in a breath, thinking about stepping through the church doors. Was I afraid because that would have me the closest to the parking lot since that night I felt the hand's pressure against my mouth or was it because stepping in the church meant I was admitting to something? Defeat or maybe a need for a strength that wasn't my own.

The card suddenly felt heavy in my pocket again.

"No." It came out harsher and more forceful than I intended it to. Jacob was silent, only moving to unclasp my hands from the seat. He held them in his. They were warmer than I have ever recalled and bigger than mine. I observed the way they supported mine, so gentle and unlike the other uses I've seen them for. Those same hands destroyed the pretty faces of men I fucked. I found myself admiring the brown skin. Fuck, those hands if they held my hips…But I never had found a use for them or for Jacob. He needed no destruction, no chaos. He was unflappable.

Even then he watched me with no disgust, no impatience, "I'm coming with you." He left no room for argument. I found myself incapable of fighting off his assertion as I usually did. We both got out of the car and without another word Jacob escorted me to the church doors. Inside, we were met with a few handfuls of people, voices murmuring in discussion and prayer. Father Aro as usual was entertaining an older couple in polite conversation. His eyes lifted as we entered, as if checking to see who stepped into the church before turning back to the couple. I cast my eyes to the front pews and wasn't disappointed to find the head of brown hair. Jacob followed my gaze and nodded.

"I'll be right here." He spoke softly, settling himself in at the end of the aisle.

I walked the short length to where Riley was, book in hand. It was déjà vu or a cruel irony. The last time I perused down the same aisle with the book, I had different intentions. The problem I was having now as I approached him again, was if the intentions now were better than the intentions before.

As if expecting me, he turned his head, hazel eyes still shimmering with naivety, "Edward," His voice carried even as he spoke softly, "Doctor Cullen said you were doing better but it is great to see it."

I watched him with scrutinizing eyes. There was no anger, but the same soft angelic gaze he had given me the moment I had opened my eyes. This was the boy that found me.

"You left something." I held out the book.

He gingerly took it, a shy smile forming on his lips, "I was hoping that this time around you would give it a chance, read it during your recovery."

"I guess it came a moment too late." I shrugged.

The comment caused Riley to hesitate before speaking "I believe it would only appear so." was his vague reply.

"So was that the real reason you brought me the book?" I settled in next to him, once again feeling that familiarity of our positions. His more mature face made him more handsome albeit less innocent looking.

Staring down at the black book in his lap, he bit his lip, "I cannot say that was the only reason." He looked up, meeting my gaze again, "I was scared for you."

"But like you said, the Doctor said I was fine."

"While I won't lie and say that your physical well-being garnered my concern, I am actually speaking about how you might be feeling." At that, he thought for a moment, "I'm actually surprised you are here. I mean after –considering…"

"What I done here." I interrupted with a smirk. It was my attempt at controlling the conversation, protecting what had been weakened after being in the hospital, in Jacob's bed. Something was changing. I was less sure about myself than I had ever been before. And it appeared that Riley could either see it now, or perhaps was unperturbed by my failed desire to thwart the topic from continuing.

"What's been done to _you_ here." He spoke gently, but it was a painful blow all the same, "I apologize, I don't mean to bring it up like this-"

"There's no use skirting around what happened." I shrugged, hoping he couldn't see how my body was trembling at the thought of being so close…

"Perhaps not." We were quiet for a moment, staring ahead at frozen symbols of saints before he spoke again, "It says something that you would return the book to me. I thank you."

I cocked my head, considering his words, "And what do my actions say?"

"That you're ready to save yourself." He hadn't missed a beat.

I wanted to snort and dismiss his words, call him out on his word as I had done before, but I sat silently. I didn't want to admit that I needed saving, that this wasn't working for me anymore. These chips, pieces of my soul taken had been wearing me out, not making me stronger. I didn't want to admit this not least to the very boy I thought I robbed of his innocence. But he wasn't a boy now, was he? He sat straighter than I remembered eyes still light and un-jaded but there was a knowledge I could now see in them, one I recognized.

"I see you're still thinking like an altar boy." I provoked, hoping to ease the coiling fear in my stomach.

"More like a man of faith." A man indeed.

There was another moment of silence again, before he spoke, "I know you must have a troubled life, perhaps even a troubled past. You're not who you are now for no reason, though if I can request, don't let your past rule who you are now or what you can be in the future." At that, his head lowered as if in contemplation, but I knew by the tightness in his eyes and determined set in his jaw that he was capping on some overwhelming emotion. It was a brief glimpse of something more than the altar boy or the saint I had seen the moment I woke up in the hospital. It was much like the face I stared into each morning.

Maybe I had an affect on him after all.

I couldn't muster the pride from that realization.

With a genuine smile easier to place on his face than I could ever attempt, he gave his thanks again.

I left him where he sat, feeling more unsure and haunted than I had entering the church and approached the altar. The extravagance of the place wasn't lost on me; the architecture, the symbols and the candles. All the frilly, coating and no one deciphers the true message of the church; we are all lost and bound for chaos and destruction without saving.

But the church is wrong.

We aren't made lost, we learn to be. And only then, do we need saving. Whether by church or therapy, I suppose we were to find our own way.

Have I? Had hurting, bleeding, and destroying lives been part of my salvation? Or part of my hell?

Had I been making the lost as my father had before me?

_Was I becoming him?_

I hadn't wished to think it, hadn't considered it. It might have existed in the darker corners of my brain, the underlying motive to my ways. _Make_ the victim, never be one.

And yet, I had been when Jasper invaded me roughly. I had been the victim even as I lead him to his moment of insanity.

I had been the victim again when…

My back stiffened as I felt the presence of another behind me. I couldn't understand the short of breath, the chilling fear. A voice spoke as the profile of a taller, slender man stepped next to me.

"Some of us cannot see our sin. We are blind by a secular world, a world that accepts immoral men and promotes evil." Father Aro spoke smoothly, eyes ahead at the altar before us. His hands were coolly crossed over the front of him, his dark eyes scanning with purpose, "Some of us…" He paused, taking that second to meet my gaze, "will face salvation. Even when we don't want to. Even when we fight against it."

Cool hands touched my shoulders in a strong grip. My body locked in recognition. His hands…

_Calloused hands gripped my ass, stretching me farther before an arm secured around my waist, keeping me up._

"But you didn't fight, did you?"

I stared at Father Aro as I had stared at my father years ago, over breakfast, when I got home from school, right before bed. I knew…Always knew…He would be there again…

I clenched my eyes shut.

_My rapist, my Father._

_And my_father_._

The irony was not lost on me.

**xXx**

It was a series of thoughts overlapping. I had been so careless, so desperate to suffer for my actions. That morning 3 years ago, stepping into the confession booth, telling Father Aro what I had done.

Had this been his way of saving me? Had he known this was what I wanted? To be broken and crippled, to suffer what I had done?

Jacob's deep voice rumbled somewhere in his room. He was on the phone, talking solemnly and silently, pacing back and forth. We had only been home for a few hours, before he finally cracked, pushing for me to talk. I could only guess the drive back home was too silent for him. I couldn't remember much after leaving the church. I knew we went back to Jacob's dad's house to pack. I knew we had to leave the next morning. But all I could recall, was waking up shivering, voice raw from my own screams. I remembered Jacob's grip around me, tighter than ever before, his voice soft and lulling. I don't remember speaking. I wasn't capable of it, not when there were so many faces to recall, so many days and nights to relive.

Jacob was already stepping back into the living room, a look of restraint of multiple emotions, "That's it. We're back to Forks. We can miss the first week of school."

I blinked up at him, "What…?"

"Edward, you're speaking less than you were two days ago." He cut me off, "What happened? What did Riley say?"

The words he spoke processed in my mind sluggishly. By the time I was ready to answer he was already back with our luggage, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter.

"Wait…" My voice was still hoarse from earlier that morning, cracking and barely audible. He didn't stop to listen, already stuffing his wallet back into his pocket, "I am not going back." I said as strongly as I could.

"I talked to Dr. Cullen already. He's paying for our stay at a hotel and –" He moved about, looking busy, "He's going to know what's up, seeing as even I-"

"There isn't-"

"I can't take not knowing what's going on with you, Edward." That sunshine boy I teased a few weeks before was unrecognizable now. I could see it in his tired eyes, his drawn down lips. I had been keeping him up these last few nights. Staring at him now, I was suddenly aware of the affect my life had on him. Every moment since the day we met. All the flirting, teasing, tempting him to lose control even when I had no desire to or need to manipulate or destroy him in anyway.

He was perfectly flawed with a past as dark as mine, but too righteous for his own good.

"Why am I not like you?" I pondered out loud.

He watched me, searching for something in my eyes before sighing, "Because we are different people."

Then why are you here with me?" I couldn't understand it. Why he was the only one I ever felt the closest to safe with? Why after all I had done, there was never disgust or hate? Why had he always treated me the same? Even the Doctor gave me looks of guilt and disappointment. But Jacob…

I couldn't understand him. All this time and I never tried.

"Why are you _still_ here with me?" I rephrased.

His expression was unreadable. For the first time since I met him, he wasn't wearing his thoughts on his face. It was…upsetting.

"I'm here because I care about you." He said evenly.

"_Why_?"

"Edward-"

"Why do you care about me?"

I knew the answer was what I needed. Something, something to make me understand, give me anchor. I was stripped of who I had been, unsure of what to do with myself. There was no hiding from the little, scared boy anymore. Everyone could see him as bare and as naked as his father had.

"We can't-" Jacob argued, desperate to let go of the topic.

But not as desperate as I was.

"Jacob." I didn't have to say the words, but for the first time in my life, I was pleading to him, needing something only he can give me.

"Because I love you."

**xXx**

**AN: Just to be clear, Father Aro is NOT the stereotyped child molester Priest but a twisted man who took an opportunity with Edward under radical intentions. It is meant to do what it did and that was confuse Edward like hell. This will be discussed more in the following chapter. **

**I have cleaned up the last chapters, catching as many errors and typos as I could since I suck at editing. Glad to be back. Thoughts are welcome! Thanks to all my readers who reviewed last chapter.**


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